December 2007

The Leading Edge

The only question I ever ask
as the sand pushes cold
between my toes,
the grunion writhe
upon the rack of their instinct,
the waves crash close and far,
the foam hisses secrets,
and the stars turn
as silent as a grove
is: What is all this and why?
Answer: The leading edge
of the universe.
Fish, like
a thousand silver fingers,
twitch and jump
as if trying
to remove themselves
from around the
throat of the future
and flow instead
to the great sea.